


Aftermath

by zathara001



Category: NCIS
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-14
Updated: 2017-11-14
Packaged: 2019-02-02 09:31:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12724014
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zathara001/pseuds/zathara001
Summary: A sequel of sorts to my story Suspicions (though you don't have to read that one first), this is my take on what should have followed in the aftermath of "Reunion." This can be read as anti-Ziva, but I don't intend it to be. It is, however, based in canon events.As always, Bellisario, et al., are hereby given whatever rights exist in this work.





	Aftermath

The morning after Ziva David returned to the desk in the bullpen that had belonged to Vivian Blackadder and Caitlin Todd before it belonged to her, Tony DiNozzo arrived early, well before 7:00 a.m. Thankfully, no one else - especially not Ziva herself - was in this early.

 

He sat at his desk, turned on his computer and, once it booted, called up the library of forms on the NCIS intranet. A few more clicks, and the form he wanted opened on his screen. Tony took a slow, deep breath and let it out equally slowly, then began to type.

 

Fifteen minutes later, he saved the form and printed a handful of copies. With any luck, he'd only need one, but he'd learned to be prepared.

 

Tony signed each copy then slipped them into a plain manila folder on his desk before calling up his email and scanning through the dozens that had come in while the team worked the Jeff Ross triple homicide.

 

When the elevator dinged at 7:28, Tony looked up to see his supervisory agent, Jethro Gibbs, striding into the bullpen, a to-go coffee cup clenched in one hand. Tony exchanged a nod with him, and let him settle behind his own desk before taking one of the forms from the folder and rising.

 

A few steps had him standing in front of Gibbs' desk. Tony supposed he shouldn't be surprised that the other man didn't look up from whatever he was doing. He took the hint and simply slid the form onto the top of Gibbs' in-box before returning to his own desk.

 

By 7:50, McGee and Ziva had arrived and were also at their desks. Tony greeted them briefly when they came in, wondering how long he'd give Gibbs before he took another copy of the form to Vance or Human Resources. Deciding to play it by ear - or, as Gibbs would say, by his gut - Tony gave a mental shrug and shifted his attention to the stack of monthly forms that were an unbelievably large part of his job.

 

Sometime later, Gibbs' voice cut across the bullpen. "The hell is this, DiNozzo?"

 

Tony didn't look up. "Pretty sure the title of the form's at the top, Gibbs."

 

"I can see that. Why is it on my desk?"

 

"Because I filled it out and submitted it to my supervisor, per procedure," Tony replied, and finally he looked up to meet Gibbs' gaze.

 

To his surprise, Gibbs didn't look angry, only confused - though you'd never know it by the way he barked, "Why the hell do you want a transfer?"

 

Tony's peripheral vision told him both Ziva and McGee looked up at that, their expressions revealing surprise and open-mouth shock, respectively. Tony rose from his chair and started for the elevator.

 

"DiNozzo!"

 

Tony looked back at his supervisory agent, saw the irritation in his eyes, and shrugged. "Figured we'd discuss it in your office."

 

"We can discuss it here." The words were clipped, as if Gibbs were giving an order.

 

Tony kept his own tone even. "Personnel matters are supposed to be treated confidentially. Which I tried to do earlier, but you chose not to talk about it then."

 

Gibbs, too, rose from his chair and came to stand in front of Tony. "Why do you want a transfer?"

 

"You're sure you want to do this here?" Tony tried again, though he was fairly certain he already knew the answer.

 

"Answer me!"

 

Okay, he'd tried to be discreet. Now all he could be was honest.

 

"Because I can't work with Ziva in the field anymore." Tony kept his gaze on Gibbs as he spoke. "I don't trust her to have my back."

 

"But, Tony -" Ziva said, her tone conciliatory. "I apologized for what happened at my apartment."

 

"No." Tony glanced at her briefly. "You said you were wrong, and that you shouldn't have doubted my motives. You never apologized."

 

"Semantics," Ziva said, and Tony could see by Gibbs' expression that he agreed with her. Of course, Tony thought wryly. He would. See, rule six.

 

But Tony wasn't done. "I'm actually fine with what happened in the apartment," he said. "I get it - heat of the moment, adrenaline. Things happen. Fortunately, nothing serious."

 

"Then what is the problem?" Ziva asked, her tone bewildered, and now Tony faced her more fully, though he kept one eye on Gibbs the entire time.

 

"The problem," Tony said, "is that you put me on the ground in Israel, and then you shoved a loaded gun into my chest. You threatened to kill me."

 

Ziva's eyes widened, and Tony almost believed she really was surprised. "It was not my intent - I would not have -"

 

Tony cut her off. "I was injured and unarmed. Whatever your intention at the time, I believed it was a threat, just like you shoving the same gun into my leg was - if you'd pulled the trigger then, it would've shattered my femur, or maybe my kneecap. So I don't trust you to have my back."

 

"But -" she glanced around, apparently only now remembering that they were in the bullpen, and lowered her voice a little - for all the good it would do, Tony thought with dark humor. The bullpen had gone completely silent, and Tony had no doubt that Balboa's team along with every other agent currently on duty were avidly listening to this little drama.

 

"But," Ziva began again, her expression determined, and maybe just a little desperate. "In Somalia - you said you couldn't live without me."

 

"I did," Tony agreed. "I meant that I wanted to know you were alive and well, maybe even happy, somewhere in the world. But even if I had meant something else, that wouldn't change the fact that I don't trust you in the field anymore."

 

"Tony, I -"

 

Tony shook his head with a smile that was more sad than anything else. "Stop, Ziva. There's nothing you can say or do that can change things now."

 

He held her gaze for a long moment, and finally she nodded once. With a quick smile that was a little more genuine than his last one, Tony turned to face Gibbs again.

 

"You understand why I'm requesting a transfer."

 

"Yeah," Gibbs said. "I do. But I'm not accepting it."

 

He tore the paper in half, then quarters, then eighths, and dropped the pieces into his trashcan.

 

Tony concealed a disappointed sigh. He'd hoped this would go more smoothly, but apparently that wasn't to be.

 

"I printed half a dozen copies, Gibbs," Tony told him. "If you don't accept it, I'll go to HR. Or to Vance. And if they won't accept it, I'll resign."

 

"I'm not accepting it," Gibbs repeated before adding, "because I'm transferring Ziva instead."

 

"Gibbs!" Ziva's shocked cry was echoed almost immediately by Tim's, "Boss, you can't!"

 

Tony was shocked into silence by the declaration, which was probably a good thing, because it meant he heard the exchange that followed perfectly.

 

"I _can't_ , McGee?" Gibbs' tone was dark and dangerous.

 

"I mean -" McGee began, then stopped and started over. "We went to all that effort to get Ziva back. Sending her away again seems … wrong."

 

Gibbs smiled, a grim expression. "You don't know what she said to me in Israel, just before we boarded the plane to come home."

 

"Gibbs -" Ziva began.

 

"No, Ziva," Gibbs said. "This needs to be said."

 

Tony's curiosity surged, but he called on all the skill that made him so good undercover and made himself stand still, waiting for whatever might come next.

 

Gibbs faced him squarely. "Ziva said she wasn't convinced you'd been entirely truthful about Rivkin's death. She wasn't sure you could work together. She suggested it was best that one of you get transferred to another team."

 

Tony supposed he shouldn't be surprised that he and Ziva thought alike - spies and undercover operatives had similar mindsets, after all - and then Gibbs' phrasing registered, and Tony felt a moment's pity toward her.

 

_Oh, Ziva. You should never have asked him to choose._

 

"I have had time to think," Ziva said. "And I was wrong -"

 

"Yeah," Gibbs cut her off. "You were. You were wrong to shove your problems off on me, to try to make me choose. DiNozzo had the -"

 

Gibbs broke off to study Tony, and Tony could only raise an eyebrow at the other man. What word was Gibbs looking for?

 

Finally, Gibbs settled on, "The integrity to decide for himself. And he cited a specific instance of your actions that caused him concern, not just a vague suspicion."

 

Tony watched, fascinated, as Gibbs turned back to meet and hold Ziva's gaze, not overtly challenging or judgmental, but nonetheless Ziva looked away first.

 

To his credit, Gibbs didn't appear overly satisfied - just as though he'd done the job he was required to do.

 

"Cold cases, Ziva," he said. "I'll ask Vance to expedite your transfer."

 


End file.
